Before the Albania Years
by FishtheMighty
Summary: Throughout his entire life, Quirinus was told that he would never acomplish anything.  But one day, he gets accepted to a school for wizards called Hogwarts and everything changes.


**I'll be honest, my main motive for writing this story was to practice on my abilities to develop characters. I like finding a character from a fandom that either doesn't have much background info, or none at all. In Quirrell's case, this was perfect. He had the right amount of information for me to reference, but there were still some holes I could fill in.**

**And yes, there is an oc, but I added her because I couldn't find much info on the people in Quirrell's life when he was at Hogwarts–other than the fact that he was bullied a lot. So, no, it's not a love story. Sorry.**

...

Quirinus kept his head down throughout the entirety of the meal. Just staring into the soup, he moved his spoon around the potatoes and the onions and tried to drown out the yelling around him. He sipped the soup from his spoon in a very halfhearted manner while his other hand curled around the letter on his lap. Quirinus promised himself that he would tell his parents that very evening, but he knew that this wasn't the best time. Even though there really was never a good time to talk to his parents in a serious manner.

"_and your grades last term have been completely unacceptable!" His father's veins throbbed on both his forehead and his fist that was clasped around his spoon.

Quirinus didn't respond. According to his father, the 'unacceptable' grade was the 'B' he got on one test. Quirinus knew it wasn't a huge issue, he knew that this one grade didn't seriously damage his average, and he knew that it wouldn't matter anyway; he had his whole future already planned out.

"Aren't you going to say something, boy?"

Quirinus was snapped out of his thoughts and he lifted his head up but still managed to avoid giving his father direct eye contact. Directly across from his father, his mum twirled her spoon around her now-empty bowl and stared longingly at the half-full pot placed in the centre of the kitchen table.

"S-sorry, papa." Quirinus averted his gaze to the scratches on the wooden table, his hand gripped the letter tighter under the table. His father must have heard the crinkling sound because his attention turned to Quirinus' left arm.

"What is that?"

"It's, um, it's just a...I mean_" Both of Quirinus' hands were under the table, twisting the paper between his fingers.

"Just give it 'ere." His father held out one of his large meaty hands. Quirinus slowly placed the letter into his hand, without breaking eye contact with his soup the entire time.

His father unfolded the crinkled paper and examined the contents, knotting his brows and scowling.

"'Dear Quirinus Quirrell, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_._' _Damnú air_, Quirinus, what the hell is this?"

"I-I've been accepted at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, I know that; I'm not stupid." His father looked over the letter again. "But why _you_? You're not even doing well at an ordinary muggle school,why would you be accepted to Hogwarts?"

Quirinus shrugged. "Well you're a wizard and mum's a witch so I guess I have to go." Quirinus knew there was more to it, though. Like that one time the school bully, Frederick Alden was about to punch him, but out of nowhere he fell to the ground before he could strike him, like an invisible force pushed him to the ground. The same thing happened throughout the rest of the week; bullies couldn't lay a finger on him without being pushed to the ground, twisting a muscle, or being knocked out with a paint can. Quirinus didn't know much about the world of magic, but he had a feeling that he had to be a very gifted wizard to be able to pull all of this off. However, this magic didn't seem to work on one person he really wanted to use it on.

"Three sets of black robes, one pair of protective gloves, one winter coat–do you have any idea how much this is going to cost?"

"I-I don't know, sir." Quirinus' fingers twisted in his lap.

"_And_ we're going to have to travel all the way to London to purchase these supplies. Do you know how long it takes to get from Liverpool to London?"

Quirinus shook his head; he knew that there wasn't a response that would satisfy his father.

"At least four hours if traffic is bad. And you expect me to drive you all the way out there and spend all this money just so you can spend the next seven years playing with magic?"

"That school's still going?" His mum leaned in slightly and reached for the ladle resting on the edge of the pot.

"Oh course it is!" His father barked, nearly crumbling the letter in his fist in the process. "I thought even a mudblood like you would have known that!"

Quirinus' mum didn't say anything, but he could see the fury in her eyes. He had no idea what a mudblood was; he only heard his father say it around the house. Too nervous to even ask what it meant, Quirinus decided that it would just be safer to not say the word to begin with.

His father picked his bowl up and Mum cringed, only to realise he was just silently demanding more soup. The hate still very present on her features, she picked up the ladle and dumped its contents right on the table. Quirinus squeezed his eyes shut, his chewed fingernails scratching at the table to find a bit of support. The rustling from his left brought him back to his senses and he opened his eyes, only to see his father standing up with the ladle in his hands, his mum staring at her lap.

"Go to your room, Quirinus." His father said calmly despite the situation.

"I-I haven't f-finished my dinner..." Quirinus knew nothing too bad would happen if he was also there. Unfortunately, his father knew this too.

"Go!"

Quirinus didn't bother to question this time. Instead he dropped his spoon and raced up the rickety old stairs then he slammed the door shut and hid himself under his bed sheets and flung the covers over his head. Quirinus closed his eyes and tried to focus only on his shallow breaths. With his eyes still closed, his hand reached out of the warmth of the blankets and felt around the rough surface of the bedroom floor until he found the atlas he kept next to his bed. Quirinus pressed his face harder against the pillow as he lifted the atlas from the floor and brought it under the blankets with him. After a few minutes of searching around blindly, he eventually found a torch under his bedside table and flipped the switch once it was also under the sheets.

He propped up the lit torch against the pillow and opened the atlas, flipping through the various maps until he found the map of the world. The physical-political map took up two whole pages and it was difficult to read the text unless you squinted at it for a while. Quirinus felt around the bedside table until he found a pen then took the cap off with his mouth, his other hand was keeping the book open.

With a few shaky breaths, he drew a line from London to Paris. He decided that France would be an easier place to travel to first because he already knew a bit about the French culture. Also, he took French classes in school–although that was the only class he didn't pay that much attention to. The line passed through West Germany, Austria, Italy, Spain, then the northern African countries. He noted to spend extra time in Egypt since he read somewhere that Egypt helped pioneer the use of magic. He drew a line through Greece and eventually stopped at Albania. Of course he wanted to travel more than that; he wanted to go everywhere. But he decided that this was good enough for now. After he graduated Hogwarts, he was going to go far away from this place and never return. Of course, he would have to convince his father to let him go to the school in the first place. Quirinus poked his head out from underneath the covers and looked at the door; there was an eerie silence in the room. With a sigh, he closed the atlas and pushed it back onto the floor along with the pen. With one more nervous glance to the door, he turned off the torch and pressed his head against the pillow once more.

...

Breakfast the next morning was just as awkward, if not more, than dinner was. His mum was still in the kitchen, whether she was still cooking of she just wanted to be away from his father Quirinus still wasn't sure about. Quirinus tried to eat his porridge, but the constant stress of what he wanted to tell his father prevented him from eating. Today was September 1st; time was running out to get to Hogwarts. He hesitantly looked at his father's watch and panicked when he saw the time was 5:00 AM, meaning he had six hours until the Hogwarts Express left. His father looked at his son over his newspaper.

"Something wrong with the porridge, boy? Eat up; you can't afford to be any skinnier."

Quirinus slowly began to eat his porridge while repeating the same phrase in his head over and over again: _Papa, I want to go to Hogwarts. Papa, I want to go to Hogwarts._

"P-p-papa?" Of course, the sentence sounded clearer in his head. Quirinus' father lifted his head from his newspaper again.

"What is it?"

"I-it's just th-that, uh, I..." Quirinus looked down and saw that his entire body was trembling along with his words. He closed his eyes and tried to force the words out of his mouth, but nothing happened. When he opened his eyes, his father had his newspaper placed down on the table and he was leaning closer to him with his chin resting in his hand.

"Are you tremblin' again?"

Quirinus' eyes widened and he shook his head as rapidly as he could.

"N-no, sir. I was just..."

"I thought we were over this!" His father suddenly stood up and pushed his chair in so hard a vase nearly toppled off of the table. "We're going to have to train you to stop tremblin'; after you finish breakfast, I'm getting the glassware out."

Quirinus' eyes were practically bulging out of his skull now.

"N-n-no, s-s-sir. I w-won't..."

"B-b-but I, uh, um..." his father mimicked. "It's for your own good."

Quirinus bowed his head down while he listened to his father complain to himself as he walked towards the kitchen.

"I only have one son and he turns out to be a complete nutter. Just my luck, aye Ruth?"

His mum didn't respond, but Quirinus knew part of her agreed. Slowly, he forced himself to swallow spoonfuls of now-cold porridge that tasted more like tar to him. He flashed back to the map he drew on last night. _Don't worry, Quirinus_. He thought to himself. _Soon you won't have to see them ever again._

...

Quirinus knew the routine perfectly by now, but that didn't make him any less nervous whenever he had to do it again. He followed his father to the living room and he handed him a long but very thin and narrow piece of wood. His eyes threatening to spill over any moment, Quirinus watched as his father placed two cheap wine glasses on the piece of wood. Making sure they were steady, he walked back to his armchair.

Quirinus tried his best to focus, tried his best to keep his hands steady. It wasn't just the fear of the loud noise brought on by the crashing of the glasses or the fact that he had to clean up every little piece that made this way of discipline so horrible, but it was the humiliation. Quirinus saw his hands begin to tremble and his heart began to race. A silent cry omitted from him as the two glasses fell to the ground and smashed against the wood floors.

His father left but Quirinus remained and dropped to his knees and began to pick up every shard of glass, collecting the pieces in his other hand. Quirinus was furious. Furious at his father for making him go through this. Furious at his mother for not standing up for her son. But most of all, he was furious at himself for not being a stronger person. A particularly nasty-looking shard of glass sliced through the skin of his index finger and he had to blink his eyes rapidly to keep the tears in. Quirinus' blood stained the rest of the shards of glass in his hand and he made his way to the kitchen to throw the pieces away, cleaning the cut with some water afterwards.

"Quirinus." His father's voice sent shivers through his spine. Quirinus wrapped a tissue around his bleeding finger as a sort of makeshift bandage and followed his father's voice into the den.

His father was leaning back on the sofa, his hands clasped together. The only light in the room was a lamp placed on the end table that cast shadows over his father's already angular facial features. Not wanting to approach his father, Quirinus sat on an ottoman by the door.

"I want you to know something, Quirinus. I don't hate you."

Quirinus perked up a bit at his father's words, but he knew never to take them too seriously.

"My father, your grandfather, raised me to be a man. He didn't let me _cry_ about my problems, he made sure I fixed them with brute force. Learning about wizardry didn't change anything for me; I still needed my strength and my intellect." he leaned forward and looked Quirinus right in the eye. "When you were born, I decided I would do the exact same thing, but then I learned something. Real men can't be made. Me, I was born to fight and I was born strong. You have way too much of your mother in you, boy. Some people are born to have people trample all over them. And you, Quirinus, are one of those people."

Quirinus looked down at his feet. Looking back at it, he wished he called his father out on blaming _him_ for being so timid, but he didn't have the strength or the courage. Maybe his father was right.

Quirinus' father obviously gave up on expecting a response from his son and he stood up.

"Get your coat; we're going to London."

Quirinus stiffened and at first he thought his ears were playing tricks on him. But sure enough, his father was retrieving his own coat from the coat hanger and handed Quirinus the smaller one right next to it.

"I thought you _wanted _to go to Hogwarts. You have to be good at something; maybe your talent lies in magic."

Quirinus couldn't keep the grin off of his face. He leapt from the ottoman and forced his arms through the sleeves of his coat in a rather hasty manner.

"T-thank you, p-papa. Thank you s-so much!"

"Christ, Quirinus. Even when you're happy you're still stuttering." His father sighed and walked out of the den, his son soon following him. His father checked his watch. "We have five hours; if you want to grab anything from home now's the time."

Quirinus nodded and raced to his room, grabbed his atlas and forced it into a simple black tote-bag he found stuffed behind his wardrobe. He placed the strap of the bag over his shoulder and ran back down the stairs. His father was waiting by the door, twirling his car keys impatiently around his fingers. His mum was seated on the sofa, her apron twisting in her hands and her thin pale blonde hair shoddily masking the traces of purple on her cheek.

"Bye, mum." Quirinus leaned slightly against the sofa and adjusted the bag on his shoulder. His mum looked up from her lap and gave Quirinus a small smile.

"Goodbye, Quirinus. Good luck."

Quirinus nodded and followed his father out of the door. His father unlocked the car and Quirinus hopped into the back seat, hardly containing his excitement. This was it! He was one step closer to his dream of becoming great! Quirinus' father reached into the glove compartment and retrieved a small leather bag.

"Wizarding currency." his father explained, tossing the bag in his left hand. "Never thought I'd be using this again." he set the bag down and began to drive.

Quirinus pressed his face against the window and watched the trees and the buildings zoom past them. Quirinus couldn't remember the last time he left Liverpool. In fact, he doubted he ever left his house except for school. But now, the world seemed so much bigger. He remembered seeing how small England was on his map compared to the other countries, but now when he was actually driving through it, he never would have guessed how big it was. At first it made him feel small and insignificant, but that just made him want to travel more. If he got his name out there, everyone in this giant world would recognize him as a great man, or he would just fade away into the crowd.

Quirinus and his father didn't speak throughout the entire car ride, but Quirinus preferred it like that. Eventually, his father parked the car and they walked through an assortment of shops and restaurants.

"I don't see anything that looks magical." Quirinus whispered to his father, his hand twisting around the strap on his bag. Quirinus wasn't going to lie; the place was amazing. Crowds of people tightened their coats around their shoulders to shield themselves from the cold September air, men were handing out fliers in front of sandwich shops, and the constant chatter of the people combined into a single one-note song. His father grabbed Quirinus' upper arm.

"Of course it isn't; we're still in the muggle world." His father looked around before leading his son into a small pub. Quirinus never felt comfortable around pubs or any place that served alcohol. Quirinus kept his head low and avoided eye contact with the customers. His father lead him to a door on the far side of the building and opened it. Quirinus stepped out into a rather small and dull-looking walled up courtyard. So far, this magical experience wasn't very exciting.

Quirinus' father brushed past him and approached one of the metal dust bins pressed up against the brick wall. Looking around nervously, he traced his finger on the bricks like one would do when looking for a location on a map. Before Quirinus could ask what was going on, his father tapped a specific brick and the most unusual thing happened. The brick began to shake and the entire brick wall seemed to twist into a large archway. Quirinus gasped and ran to the new opening and peered out.

It looked very similar to the shopping centre in the muggle world, but this one nearly took Quirinus' breath away. The street was lined with peculiar-looking shops that advertised things like broomsticks, cauldrons, and very bizarre-looking sweets. Owls and bats hung from cages and the road was crowded with pedestrians wearing everything from normal street clothing to long robes and pointed hats.

"This is Diagon Alley." his father explained. "We need to get you your robes first." his father looked over the supply list. Quirinus almost didn't hear him due to the constant invasion of his senses the shopping centre was forcing on him. But he regained his senses and followed his father into one of the shops.

...

Quirinus had to push the cart containing all of his supplies, but he didn't mind; it was his supplies after all. Quirinus was just about to follow his father to another shop when he stopped in front of a different store. The outside was adorned with cages and each one contained an owl. Quirinus knelt down next to one of the cages and hesitantly ran his finger against the metal bars.

"Hey pretty birdy." Quirinus tried to get the owl to come closer. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The owl took a few steps closer to him on its perch and Quirinus grinned.

"Hey, papa. I think this one likes me!"

His father turned around and frowned. "You're not getting an owl."

Quirinus sadly looked at the bird. "But the letter says I can bring an owl, cat, or a toad."

"It says you _may_ bring an owl, cat or a toad." His father crossed his arms. "I'm not going to spend any more money than I need to. Now we're going to get your wand and then you're leaving."

Quirinus stood up and looked back at the owl. The bird tilted its head to the side slightly and Quirinus swore it was trying to say goodbye. Quirinus followed his father into another shop; Ollivanders Wand Shop. Quirinus coughed; the room was awfully dusty. An old man with wide eyes was standing behind the counter.

"Um, c-can I get a w-wand here?" Quirinus didn't dare look at his father, but he could sense that he was irritated with his stuttering. The old man slowly made his way from behind the counter and grasped Quirinus' hand.

"Of course, young lad. Garrick Ollivander, at your service."

Quirinus responded with a rather weak handshake.

"Quirinus Quirrell." He eventually managed to force out. Ollivander gave what looked more like an attempt at a smile and faced Quirinus' father.

"Seamus Quirrell. It's been so long!"

His father's blank expression never left his face. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"I just need to get the boy his wand. That is all."

Ollivander didn't seem to offended by his father's bluntness. He walked back to the counter and slid a thin box from one of the countless shelves pressed against the walls. He walked back to Quirinus and his father and handed the boy the box.

"Alder wood with a unicorn hair core." Ollivander said proudly. Quirinus let go of the cart and opened the box. His shaking fingers lifted the long piece of wood. Quirinus noted that the wand was slightly bendy. Quirinus looked at the wand then looked back at Ollivander who made a slight swishing gesture with his hand. Quirinus nodded and mimicked Ollivander's motion with his wand. Almost instantly, a stream of gold light seemed to omit from the wand. Quirinus nearly dropped the wand in pure shock.

"Excellent." Ollivander clasped his hands together. "So how does the wand feel?"

Quirinus passed the wand between his hands. "It's a little long, but I like it."

"Don't worry, you'll grow into it. But does it feel right overall?"

"Yes, sir." Quirinus grinned and placed his wand back inside his box.

"Wait outside, Quirinus." His father demanded. "I'll pay Ollivander; it shouldn't take long."

Quirinus nodded, silently thanked Ollivander and pushed his cart out of the door of the shop. Once outside in the crisp autumn air, he sat down against the outside of Ollivanders Wand Shop and watched the other witches and wizards run past him. Quirinus had no idea what time it was, but he had a feeling that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving any moment. Eventually, his father came out of the shop.

"You ready, boy?"

Quirinus scrambled to get to his feet, forcing his legs to catch up with his father who was already halfway down the street. The cart bumped against rocks laying in the middle of the road and forced sparks up Quirinus' weak wrists.

"We're leaving the wizardry world for only a little bit." His father explained. "Fortunately, you have plenty of time before the Hogwarts Express leaves."

Quirinus gave a sigh of relief and forced himself to continue to push the heavy cart down the bumpy cobblestone path.

...

It was a little unsettling to be in a non-magic part of town (or as his father and other wizards call it: the muggle world). It was still just as hectic as Diagon Alley, but after spending almost an hour around the world of magic, Quirinus felt surprisingly out of place in the muggle train station his father dragged him to. Fighting their way through the crowds, his father placed his hand on Quirinus' shoulder and pointed to a wall between platform 9 and 10.

"This leads to Platform 9 3/4. Just run through it; the Hogwarts Express is on the other side."

Quirinus looked back at his father with an eyebrow raised. He was always accused of being gullible and it was only fair to say that those accusations were often right, but did his father really expect him to believe this? He was going to smack against that solid-looking brick wall and everyone was going to laugh at him.

"What are you waiting for?" His father pushed him on the back and Quirinus wondered if he was actually being serious. Taking a deep breath and a few steps back, Quirinus ran towards the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. And nothing happened. Sure he almost crashed into someone on the other side as a result of not knowing when to stop running, but he made it. Quirinus almost forgot to mumble a small apology to the person he rammed into because his attention was completely focused on the large, red steam engine to his left. Quirinus smiled and followed the other children onto the train; he was one step closer to proving himself.

...

Quirinus managed to find time to change into his Hogwarts uniform; he decided it was probably best to change now before he reached the school. After a good ten minutes of attempting to tie the tie around his neck correctly, he sat back against his seat and opened the door of compartment, so he could buy some food from one of the trolleys when it came to his compartment. Just about ready for the long train ride ahead of him, Quirinus retrieved his atlas and pen from his bag and flipped open to a random page,

"Hey, is anyone else sitting here?"

Quirinus looked up and noticed a girl around his age wearing an ill-fitting green dress and holding a slimy-looking toad in her hand. Her mousy brown hair was rather messy and cut just to her chin. As much as Quirinus wanted to spend the entire trip alone, he didn't think it was fair for him to have the entire compartment to himself while she had to squeeze herself into another compartment with even more people already in it. So Quirinus nodded and the girl thanked him, taking her seat directly across from him.

"So are we supposed to be in our uniforms now?" She lifted her hand from her toad to gesture to Quirinus' uniform and a strand of mucus stretched between the toad's skin and the palm of her hand; Quirinus shuddered.

"I-I just felt that it w-would be m-more convenient."

The girl shrugged and placed her hand back on her toad.

"My name's Lucy, by the way." She grinned and presented her mucus covered hand to Quirinus who made nervous glances from the slimy toad then back to her before slowly shaking her hand, cringing when he felt the warm slime cover his palm.

"Quirinus." he said in barely a whisper, trying to ignore the fact that his hand felt completely disgusting now. Not wanting to rub his filthy hand against his new uniform, he wiped it off against the seat of the train. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"Come again?"

"Quirinus. That's my name." By this time, Quirinus was used to people being confused by his name. His father named him after an ancient Roman god hoping it would make him stronger, but that obviously didn't work out the way he planned. Throughout his eleven (almost twelve) years of existence, his last name was mistaken for "squirrel" so many times that it didn't phase him anymore.

"You nervous?" Lucy placed her toad on the seat next to her and the creature didn't jump away much to Quirinus' surprise.

"A-actually I'm v-very excited!" Quirinus tried his best to stop himself from stuttering, but it didn't work. "S-sorry, b-but I h-have a s-s-slight s-stutter."

"Ah okay. At first I thought you were cold or something; it is awfully chilly in 'ere, though." Lucy adjusted the sleeve of her dress, trying to get the stiff green fabric to cover more of her forearm.

"Anything from the trolley?" A soft voice suddenly cut in. Quirinus turned to the door of the compartment and saw an old lady pushing a cart covered in all sorts of sweets. The woman smiled at Quirinus and Lucy.

"U-um, one s-second." Quirinus reached into his bag and retrieved a few coins his father gave him. Lucy grabbed some coins from her dress pocket and rubbed the two coins together while she examined the contents on the trolley.

"I'll take the Every Flavour Beans." Lucy handed the woman her coins and received a rather peculiar-looking box. Quirinus looked at the trolley, hoping to find something he could recognize.

"I-I'm fine." Quirinus shook his hand slightly.

"It's fine, dear. I'll come through again if you change your mind." And with that, the trolley rolled away.

Lucy managed to pry open the box after some time then dropped a single one into her hand.

"Jenny–I mean Jennifer, my big sis, told me about these little things." She picked the bean up and examined it. "Told me they have every flavour you can imagine, even if it doesn't sound all that appetizing."

Quirinus did not like the look of the bean Lucy was holding and he made a mental note not to accept it if Lucy offered him one. With a shrug, she popped the piece of candy into her mouth. Almost instantly, her face twisted and she started gagging.

"Rotten egg. I got rotten egg!" Lucy coughed and slammed her fist against the seat of the train, nearly squashing her poor frog in the process. After a good five minutes of gagging and coughing, Lucy seemed to calm down.

"Well _that_ was most repulsive." Lucy looked at the box of beans. "But there's no point in wasting all of these; I'll have another."

"W-why d-don't you give them to your t-t-toad?" Quirinus pointed to the slimy creature sitting next to her. Lucy dropped the rather odd-looking pink bean back into her box and picked up the toad.

"Well I don't want Byron to get sick."

"Byron? Like the p-poet?" Quirinus had no idea why one would name a slimy, overweight toad after one of the leading figures in the Romantic movement. Lucy just shrugged and stroked the toad's warty skin.

"Well my parents would have a fit if I didn't name my pet after an author, scientist, or composer and Lord Byron was the only one I could think of at the time. Sis named her owl 'Sabio' which seems as obscure and pretensions as one can get."

Quirinus didn't know how naming a toad after Lord Byron was any better, but he decided to drop the subject. Instead, he was interested in what it was like to have a wizard sibling. Sure his parents were involved with magic, but they never discussed it.

"S-so your s-sister is a w-witch? Will we meet her at the school?"

Lucy placed Byron down and shook her box of beans slightly.

"Yes, but she just graduated so we're not going to meet her." Lucy sighed and slouched in her seat. "You know, coming to a school after Ms. Perfect already cleared the trail for you is very stressful. If I don't get into Ravenclaw, my parents are going to kill me."

Quirinus tilted his head to the side. "Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah, Ravenclaw the Hogwarts house."

Quirinus shook his head, suddenly feeling very out of touch. "S-sorry, b-but I d-don't know w-what that is."

Lucy's eyes widened a bit.

"You don't know about the Hogwarts houses? Were you, um," she looked around as if to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. "Muggle-born?"

Another term Quirinus hears around the house before, but fortunately he knew what this one means already.

"N-no. B-both of m-my p-parents w-went t-to H-Hogwarts."

"Oh." Lucy still seemed confused, but she continued. "Hogwarts is split into four houses that are all based on our traits, or something like that. I don't know, I'm just trying to remember what Jennifer told me." Lucy let out an exhausted sigh. "My sister was in Ravenclaw, my parents were both in Ravenclaw and so were their parents before them. So as you can guess, I have a lot of pressure on me."

Quirinus wondered which houses his parents were in, but he was sure if he asked his father would pressure him to get into the same house he was in.

"So w-which trait is R-Ravenclaw b-based on?" As much as Quirinus wanted to just curl up with his atlas, he knew Lucy was on a roll. Hopefully, he could tire her out and he could spend the rest of the long train ride in silence.

"This is the only one I can vaguely remember, but it's things like intelligence, wit, cleverness, you get the picture." Lucy kept picking beans from the box and examining them as if not to repeat the rotten egg moment. "I guess I'm good at riddles and stuff, but I'm still not sure if I'll make it in."

Quirinus nodded and stared out the window, watching the English countryside zoom past them in a blur. The two kids sat in silence for a while before Lucy shook the box of beans again and grinned.

"Hey, do you dare me to eat this entire box at the same time?"

...

Lucy made Quirinus close the door of the compartment and hide behind his atlas while she changed into her Hogwarts uniform once they heard a voice notifying the passengers that they would be approaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Lucy's movements were now slow and sluggish but Quirinus couldn't blame himself for that one. He told her not to eat the entire box of beans, but she did anyway. Add that to the almost six hour train ride and Quirinus could understand Lucy's sickly actions.

Once the train came to a complete stop, Quirinus and Lucy fought their way through the sea of people until they reached a small platform. The first years were singled out from the rest of the students and Quirinus had to squint his eyes to adjust his eyes to the darkness and he almost gasped when he saw the mountain to his right. Looking over the inky black lake was a majestic castle topped with spiraling towers. Quirinus had no idea what the Hogwarts school was going to look like, but it turned out to be a lot grander than he expected it to be.

The first years were forced into groups of four and each group was placed in a tiny boat on the lake. Quirinus got in a boat with Lucy and two other first years. The boat silently made its way across the lake. The silence was broken by Lucy clutching Byron to her stomach and groaning.

"I think those sweets are coming back." she whispered, wiping some sweat off of her brow. Quirinus ignored her, too enthralled by the school to care.

The boats came to a stop and the first years walked up the stone steps to the castle. The large oak door opened and a tall witch with black hair and forest green robes greeted them.

"My name is Professor McGonagall and I welcome you children to your first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

...

**How come lately I've been writing too many tl;dr worthy fanfictions? This turned out to be way longer than I expected.**

**Random fact: Even though most of the information I got about Quirrell came from the first book or Pottermore, the reason why I made Quirrell from Liverpool and made his father speak some Irish was based on the actor who played him, Ian Hart. Relevant? No, just wanted to bring it up in the author's notes.**


End file.
